Ouroboros Spine song of the stars

as stricken as the star-child was, lótë's gentle reassurances soothed them almost immediately. their jilted rapidfire breathing slowed to a steadier rhythm, and they even dared to close silver eyes as they laid down at their mother's beckoning. a splinter, they repeated, trying to mimick mom's gentle confidence. there was a small but sharp stab, and ink winced — but before they knew it, she was done, and the pain was gone.

they opened their eyes again, relief written into their soft features. thank you mom, they whispered, a weak hint of a smile tugging at their mouth as they spoke. when they started again, they tried to sound more normal, embarrassment coiling in their stomach now that the pain and panic had passed. um. can i help? with the pelts? they glanced past her to the abandoned project, oblivious to her purpose with them but eager to change the subject away from their childish crisis.